Splinters of an Ivory Tower

The ignorance of a child

Teeters over the precipice

Of the knowledge

Of good and of evil

I know good.

Or I thought I did.

I’ve tasted evil.

What I knew it to be.

It’s bitter swallow

Has me addicted.

Like alcohol.

I grew up

The poison fell down

To my gut

To ferment

The ignorance of a child

Is the the bliss of nostalgia

The bite of a warm cookie

Or rolling in grass

And staring at clouds,

Lost in sweet memories.

It’s being sheltered by a pillow fort

in an ivory tower.

The ignorance of a child

Is murdered by Time.

Desperately

I turn the clock

Backwards

But its hands slap

Mine away

And as the time

Whittles away

I see a figurine

Taking shape

-- a child, crying.